


Something's changed and I don't know why

by journeyman



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 02:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7994965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeyman/pseuds/journeyman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>changkyun kisses hoseok, and finally lets himself want him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something's changed and I don't know why

**Author's Note:**

> written for [this prompt](http://kpromptficmeme.dreamwidth.org/765.html?thread=18173#cmt18173)  
> listening to [Touch by Shura](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2AOjb9HW2E)

July. The heat is thick even at night, even in the rain. Changkyun's bangs are stuck to his forehead, and his eyelids feel sticky when he blinks.

He's standing with Hoseok against a cinderblock wall, taking cover from a sudden downpour. Under the overhang of tree limbs and trumpet vines, it smells like fresh soil and torn foliage. The narrow street they had been walking down is empty and largely dark. Hoseok is touching a trailing vine that's hanging in front of him, the dark leaves gleaming with amber from the streetlight.

Changkyun finds himself thinking about Hoseok's hands – aimlessly, directionlessly, as he usually thinks about Hoseok's body.

"So," Hoseok asks, "where do you want to go?"

His eyes are very dark in this light, and something about it makes Changkyun feel like he's going to cry. Something about them being here together is painful. Did he have too much to drink? He tries to remember how much he drank but the rain seems suddenly deafening, and his thoughts about Hoseok's hands feel both very large and very cramped. It's old, and tiring. _Isn't there more to this?_ he thinks, glancing down at Hoseok's pale fingers. _Don't you call yourself an honest man?_

Hoseok doesn't seem to expect a response to his question. He's leaning his shoulder against the wall, smoothing out a leaf against his palm, eyes prettily half-lidded.

Honesty, Changkyun thinks again – doesn't he owe himself that?

He forces himself to look up, and when he draws Hoseok's gaze they both go still, as if suddenly aware they're breathing the same air.

"Hyung," he says. Hoseok does not answer.

Changkyun doesn't know why yet, but as if his arm has learned something, he reaches out and puts his palm around the nape of Hoseok's neck.

Hoseok looks a little surprised, but he doesn't jump away like Changkyun would have expected him to. He doesn't say or do anything. He simply stands still and lets Changkyun lean forward – stands still like he's been here before and knows exactly what to do.

When Changkyun lays their lips together, Hoseok closes his eyes and breathes out against his cheek, and to Changkyun it's like stepping into a house with a thousand doors and windows open inside.

Hoseok is soft, like Changkyun always imagined he would be, even when he didn't know he was imagining it. His nose brushes against Changkyun's face, his lips part minutely, and Changkyun can taste the ice-and-air-and-soju flavor of Hoseok's saliva as he presses forward into him. Changkyun takes a step closer; Hoseok's steady breathing stutters.

Changkyun kisses him unwaveringly, wanting to feel Hoseok alive against him. So when Hoseok opens his mouth and tilts his head, Changkyun can't help the way he moans at the knowledge of Hoseok wanting this too.

They're moving together slowly now, rhythmically, kissing each other with half-open mouths. And as he comes to know the feeling of Hoseok's skin sliding purposefully against his own, all of Changkyun's thoughts deepen their bloom, opening up like the trumpet flowers above them.

He brings his hand up to Hoseok's chest, and runs his finger under one of the straps of his drawstring backpack. He imagines pushing it off his shoulders, hearing it fall to the ground. He imagines stripping him of his belt, his shirt, his shorts. Hoseok's hand finds Changkyun's bicep – his fingertips press into the muscle, nails stinging. He's pulling Changkyun forward.

But then, gently, he's pushing him away. When they part, Changkyun looks at Hoseok – he's leaning forward, eyes closed, as if chasing after the warmth of Changkyun's mouth.

What can he do now? Changkhyun can't think, has nothing to say, doesn't understand anything except how badly he wants to do that again, how badly he wants it to become more. How clearly all his idle thoughts about Hoseok and his body have led to this.

Hoseok's hand is trembling on his arm. "Changkyun-ah," he whispers. "I don't think..."

But he's trailing off, and he doesn't open his eyes.

Changkyun does not let him finish.


End file.
